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Apr 2021
Whispers follow me,
Muttering their taunting mirthful cry.
I listen from my liar’s chair,
Too far gone to care.

Smothered voices sing to me,
Calling out my name
Through distorted chords.

I have no lips to speak of,
No eyes to embrace the world;
Only these silent ears,
Listening to my tormentors fears.
Ayn
Written by
Ayn  20/M/Wherever I May Roam
(20/M/Wherever I May Roam)   
228
   --- and ryn
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